Cry, Cry, Dear Pristine Angel
by HanyouNeko-Chan
Summary: The missing excerpt from Clockwork Angel, after Tessa leaves Jem's quarters at Will's request. "By the Angel, James Carstairs. You'll be the death of me." Mentions of death and light cursing. Possible Heronstairs interpretations.


**A/N:** My second TID fiction c: Yeeey! I hope you enjoy!~ THis might turn into a series if enough people desire it.

**Title:** Cry, Cry, Dear Pristine Angel

**Summary:** The missing excerpt from Clockwork Angel, after Tessa leaves Jem's quarters at Will's request.

"By the Angel, James Carstairs. You'll be the death of me."

**Word Count: **2,703

**Genre: **Friendship/Drama

**Fandom:** The Infernal Devices by Cassandra Clare

**Pairing:** Possible Heronstairs interpratations

**Rated:** PG for the mentions of blood, death, and light cursing.

**Warnings:** Possible spoilers.

**Reviews are very much appreciated!**

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Cry, Cry, Dear Pristine Angel

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_The boundaries which divide Life from Death are at best shadowy and vague. Who shall say where the one ends, and where the other begins?_

Edgar Allan Poe

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"You've turned the act of beguiling from dreadful manipulation, to a beautiful art form, William." Light as the hum of the violin in which was so masterfully played by crafted white hands, Jem's voice rang through his coughs and rasps, permeating the warm air with its sweet essence and desirable honey. Silver shadowed by lids white as lilies gazed upon the slender and strong form of the working Welshman, his every movements scrutinized, from the slight twitch of his arm, to the rumble of his muscles underneath taut, creamy skin. Jem's lips curled upward in a tantalizing, yet almost bone-chilling smile. Drowned in the milky quality of the moonlight, the sharp angles of the oriental pearl's features cast dead shadows across his face; appearance akin to a skeleton, to put bluntly, he would have appeared as lifeless as a corpse, were it not for the capricious murmur of his ragged breath. "Not quite amendable, yet still impossibly remarkable. How do you do it?"

"You talk too much."

This excitable retort elicited a deep chuckle from the pearl's throat, halted with haste as yet another cough made an unappreciated visit.

At such a display, Will turned from his spot in the front of Jem's dressing table, and peered at him through very blue eyes. The sapphire orbs, holding worrisome affection unparalleled by even the most kindred of mothers, held Jem's fine, slender form for several heartbeats, his very own chambers clamoring with inner turmoil and the heated fire of passion. He was silent.

William returned to the concoction in which he so meticulously manifested, allowing the fine water-soluble silver powder to dissolute within its liquid restraints. The once-clear glass of water became murky and gray - from cold to warm in a matter of moments. It smelled of sweets. Despite its allure and falsities however, Will knew well enough that such an antidote was not to be touched by unknowing hands, for it could leave a burn far hotter than even flames.

Caressing it in a gentle palm, he brought it over to his friend and _parabatai_, pressing the fine porcelain to his lips - lips that were pale as the face of a doll, and trembled so minutely as they made way to part, as if submerged in ice and not once permitted to see the fine warmth of sunlight.

With thirsty gulps, Jem drank, at first fighting his coughs, which only quickly settled once the luke liquid slithered down his throat like a prowling snake. Immediately, his body took awareness of the poisonous _yin__ fen_ and welcomed it with greedy impatience.

Like the smallest blossom upon a fruit-bearing tree, a smile fitted Will's perfect features, and the perspiration that had long-since assembled upon his broad forehead began to dry:

He was relieved.

The two beings, suspended in a deafening silence that continued to drone for what appeared as hours, gazed at each other in faint awe, their chests heaving with great strain and exertion, Jem because of his illness, Will because of his fear. Then, with quiet abruptness, the black-haired Welshman began to giggle, the titter fleeing from his lips in rushed glory, eager to assault the air with their light baritone, and Jem began to chuckle in pursuit. No, Jem's latest endeavors certainly were no laughing matter, however, they simply felt the mood far too strenuous to maintain. Such a serious air was only bound to apply stress to an already demanding battle, and neither of them dared have desire to carry that extra burden upon their shoulders.

And so they laughed, sniggering amongst each other like giddy and twitter-pated school-girls, Jem's chuckles of a higher octave, producing sweet melodies like the chiming of church bells or the strum of a harp, harmonizing perfectly with William's deeper voice.

Once all was settled and everything was said and done, the duo found themselves resting upon Jem's mattress, gazing upwards at the bleak white ceiling. Their fingers were twined together like ivy and their family rings shimmered in the gentle caress of the bedazzling moonlight, expressing the friendship and bond that had passed between the two of them so terribly long ago.

"May I ask why, William?"

Jem's voice suddenly rang, piercing the silence between them.

Will turned his head to the side, assaulting his companion with two beautiful forget-me-nots, his stare so terribly intense that it would have melted the very skin covering Jem's frail body were it possible.

"Ask what?" His voice seemed to resonate.

"... Why ..." The Carstairs heir appeared to test his words upon gentle lips before stating them, as if frightened that, in some queer turn of events, his dear friend would somehow grow exasperated or furious at his question, though that had never happened once in the five years they'd known each other, and had truly no reason to occur since. "Why did you send Tessa away?" The words finally trudged past his pale, porcelain-laden lips, and landed delicately upon Will's ears, singing through his eardrums and humming upon his brain.

There was a long - too long - silence, when finally Will parted his jaws to utter a response:

"By the Angel James Carstairs, you're going to be the death of me."

A noise of start rumbled up Jem's throat, and his head whipped around. Raging storm meting the deep sea, their eyes locked and battled, one fragile and delicate, threatening to shatter at any moment, yet preserving enough strength to remain unspoiled, and another so strong and mighty, vying for the appearance of a man who could not be broken, while hidden deep within those forget-me-nots was a boy so terrified that he'd already been broken time and time again.

Jem's lower lip quivered as he prepared to speak. "Excuse me?" His voice was not harsh, nor similar to reprimanding, it was not strong, but it was not weak.

"..."

James Carstairs, born in the late nineteenth century to a _Nephilim_ family, father of British-English descent, mother of Chinese, he had lived out the first twelve years of his life in Shanghai with his kin, prospering, growing to learn the Mandarin tongue, and thriving upon guardian's culture with vivacious life and glee. Parents slaying the mate and family of a Greater Demon, revenge was extracted upon the piteous Carstairs family. His parents were slaughtered, right before the child's very eyes, mercilessly and with lacking sympathy or compassion - he head heard the screams, and still did to this very day, the utters of pure terror and grief, suddenly cut off and never to be heard by the naked ear again; cries for their lives; cries for the life of their _son_ ... Jem had been spared that fateful day ... But perhaps it would have been beneficial if he had merely been slaughtered, as well?

Demon poison forced down his throat, the little Mandarin boy had been on the brink of death, and likely would have perished within a few days, had it not been for one thing.

_Yin fen._

His drug; his life-line ... The phenomenon that not only prolonged his life immeasurable amounts, but also brought upon his downfall. He'd used the poison so much, that his very skin was stained with the sickly sweet scent of burnt sugar - his hair had turned from midnight to shillings, and his eyes from chocolate to steel - even his lashes held the evanescent glimmer of a bladed dagger; his skin no longer held pallor other than snow, and his body beheld the ugliness of impending demise. His appearance was monotonous and bland, yet alluring and _very_ beautiful all the same.

And right now, the enigma waited in kindred patience for his dear friend to reply - a man like him in every way, and not at all.

Only ever was James so patient with Will.

It brought a beam of a smile to the eccentric raven's lips.

"I merely mean to say that you have no need to go around asking such questions when the answer is so blatant."

His smile widened as his eyes caught glimpse of furrowing brows.

"What do you assume is _so_ terribly _blatant_, William?" His words were eloquent and soft, however they held the sharp edge of a knife, pressed up against Will's throat in ugly anticipation. This was perhaps as angry as Jem had ever grown at William Herondale - never had he once raised his voice above euphoria, and never once had it quivered with anger; mere exasperation ever only coated his beautiful voice, and that was likely all that ever would. "I hope you do mind sharing, as it's seemed to escape me entirely."

"You must be terribly dense, then, dear James, because it is so obvious that I'm sure even a Shax demon could understand."

"Blunt as ever, I see. I'm relieved to see you're not sick from your feigned intoxication. I don't know what I would do if I had you pretending to vomit all over my blouse, and speaking nonsense that only you can comprehend as usual."

"Your sarcasm is strong tonight. It's unlike you."

"It is simply one of those nights, William. Now please do tell me what you believe to be so terribly obvious."

William chuckled, and unlike his appearance - which was all blacks and blues from his head to his toes - his laughter was colorful and bright - it was vivacious and reminiscent of childhood. It was so rare to ever witness genuinely from the male, that James could honestly say he had been taken by surprise to hear it. However, per usual, it held the light aura of begrudging despair it always seemed to grip.

"I sent her away for you, Jem." The words slithered past his lips - plump and pink as strawberries, beaten with the chill of the outside - and they were so easily spoken, as if they were the most obvious thing in the World. Will did not seem inclined to go further upon elaboration, but once catching glimpse of the confusion and puzzlement still lurking upon his friend's colorless face, he sighed and continued on: "I thought it would burden you ... If yet another knew of your ... Ill health, is all." At that statement, a look of solemn understanding took place of pervious bewilderment.

Jem smiled.

"You act so uncannily nonchalant around everyone else, William, that they can do nothing but feel disdain even at the mention of your name ... But towards me, it's different."

William's eyes were amused. "Really, how so?" He pondered aloud, lips curled in a taut crescent.

The male of Welsh descent knew good and well that Jem could go on for hours, endlessly naming things in which Will had done for him over the past five years that he would never consider for anyone else were it not Jem. And he would let him. Not because he was vain (which he was) but simply because he felt it gave his friend joy to say such things; a light was bestowed upon Jem's face and in his eyes whenever he spoke of the gratification William gave to him and only him, and Will never found it upon himself to take such happiness away. It was such a rare, rare sight indeed. But rather, he felt it pointless to allow such ramblings to occur so late in the eve, and parted his jaw once again before Jem was given time for reply.

"Give me one example."

At that, light sparked in Jem's silvery eyes.

Bathed in moonlight, the Chinese teenager appeared stale and pallid, the soft ivory adding an even ghostlier essence to his already ghostly complexion. It highlighted the bones of his cheeks, dark shadows hollowing out his face and allowing him to appear old and worn down ... Perhaps he was, in his own, unique way. And the silken light reflecting off of his already bare hair sent beams dancing upon the velvety locks, gems turning and twinkling with every twitch of the head, and his eyes appeared luminous and lustrous, and all together James was quite breathtaking to look at. The swirls of black runes prevailed visible under the thin silk of his nightshirt, and peeked daintily past his arm-cuffs and collar. They stood out upon his paper skin like pain upon a canvas. Though a bit morbid, it was a simply stunning work of art that Will thought unparalleled. He wondered vaguely, what he looked like as a child, with hair blacker than ink, and skin healthy and rosy ...

"You have no need to go around asking such questions when the answer is so blatant." Jem quoted the male - whose age differed only by three months junior - perfectly, attempting (horribly) to mimic his accent. This got a very unamused stare from the blue-eyed male, but instead provoked a smile out of the orient himself. "Our runes, William."

With delicate, violin-trained fingers, he unsnapped the first three buttons upon his nightshirt, and pushed the smooth, cool fabric away with little exertion. (Will was glad to see that he was feeling better after his last endeavor). The fabric slipping easily off of his thin, delicate shoulder, a black mark - standing out more now in the light than it had previously when it was hidden away by the translucency of Jem's shirt - like an ugly bruise resided upon the juncture between arm and shoulder. Once that was exposed, Jem reach forward with easy grace and touched William's chest - the slow, steady pulsing of his heart was calming under Jem's cool fingertips, and brought with it a surge of relief and serenity he hadn't felt for such a long time. His palm was warm and steady above Will's chest.

"We're _parabatai,_ William. You asked me - badgered me for _days_ to be your _parabatai_ ... If you did not care for me, then why would you force me into such a thing?" His expression remained somber, even as Will's hand founds its place atop Jem's own, sheltering the dainty appendage easily. "Closer even than lovers." The two of them exchanged a heart-felt smile, before Will cleared his throat, reciting the Oath both knew by heart, and never would doubt.

"_Entreat me not to leave thee,_  
_Or return from following after thee—for whither thou goest, I will go,_  
_And where thou lodgest, I will lodge._  
_Thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God. _  
_Where thou diest, will I die, and there will I be buried. _  
_The Angel do so to me, and more also, if aught but death part thee and me."_

A sigh passed by Jem's lips, not quite sad, but not quite glad, either. He watched William's eyes for the longest time, before closing his own pair of pendants, allowing his eyes to rest, his eyelashes kissing and hugging against his thin cheeks.

"Go to your room, William, and go to sleep. I will be fine for the night."

Jem could sense Will's hesitation, and he peeked a single eye open.

"Go."

Will squeezed Jem's hand lightly, before he got up, the pressure previously lent into the mattress lifting and resisting. Before he exited the door, he cast a final glance at his friend, chuckling under his breath and shaking his head in dismay.

Once the door had been closed, he looked towards Tessa's own room, in which resided across the hallway from Jem's. He heard not a sound from the maiden's closed chambers, and assumed good and well that she was slumbering away. He leaned back against Jem's doorway, shrouding those beautiful forget-me-nots in darkness as his eyes flitted shut.

_You really will be that Death of me, James._

_._

_._

_._

_Hell ..._

_._

_._

_._

_I simply hope the feeling is not returned._

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Fin


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